Duplicity
by Pouf Forayer
Summary: Uzumaki Sakura wants to know why Hinata's children are blond. A tale told in bits and pieces, in one-shots and drabbles. Hyuuga-centric.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim any rights or responsibilities to the Naruto universe. All of that belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.  
**Note: **I've always wanted to do a drabble series.

**EDIT: **I'm doing some serious revamping. I'll be going through the chapters and re-writing them.

So, let's begin . . .

* * *

**Illusions**

* * *

This is Konoha.

This is Konoha at peace. Everything is beautiful and lush, thriving ten years after the Fourth Great Shinobi War had nearly destroyed the world. Here is a place that is full of happy people, of children not dying, and of parents coming home.

Yes, this is Konoha at peace.

And this is also all a lie.

No matter how much they smile and pretend everything is all right, the shinobi can sense that this so called _peace _is tenuous at best. They can sense that they are akin to a boulder balancing at the very tip of the mountain, waiting to fall into the abyss that is war once more. Yet they do not speak of it - perhaps do not even know the words for why they feel so anxious. They cannot name the shadows that are creeping at their back . . .

. . . but Uzumaki Naruto can.

He can name every single one -

Rebellion.

Anarchy.

Civil unrest.

The Fourth Great Shinobi War, it seemed, had killed thrice as many civilians than shinobi. Villages full of regular people had been razed to the ground while their inhabitants had been slaughtered like pigs, unable to protect themselves from men and women who had the ability to set the air on fire and destroy mountains with simple utterances - all because they had happened to stand in the way of the _shinobi _war.

And as shinobi basked in their new found peace, civilians were busy burying their dead in mass graves.

Still, this was all little known information to the general shinobi population. It seemed the only ones who cared were the elite of the shinobi villages – the kages who listened to reports of gathering civilian forces armed with mysterious weapons.

Naruto decides that, despite his and his friends' best efforts that another war is coming. This is why it must remain strong for the oncoming storm.

This is why _he _must remain strong; why he must remain incorruptible, powerful, a perfect figure of morality and strength. Essentially, the perfect hokage, for a country is only as strong as its leader.

These are the thoughts that race through his mind on the morning that he is sworn in as the Rokudaime before the entire village. Thousands of faces gather before him, looking up with hopeful smiles that he will finally, _finally, _be the one to lead them to the peace and prosperity they deserve. Of all these faces, there is a particular one in the crowd that he is actively trying to avoid.

"Are you ready?" asks Tsunade, pulling him out of his reverie.

"Yeah," he replies, hands a bit shaky. He's never been this nervous before, and he can't tell if it's because this is the day he's been waiting for his whole life, or because of the news that he had been given just last night.

"Don't worry, brat, you got this," whispers Tsunade before pulling away with a smile. She turns to face the podium and steps up to it to officially begin the inauguration ceremony. A wave of applause welcomes her, and she calmly waits for it to die down before taking a deep breath.

"Today, we step toward the future," she says proudly into the microphone. "Today, we welcome a new hokage. _Today, _we continue a never-ending journey to create a better Konoha . . ."

Slowly, Naruto zones out as Tsunade continues her speech. He stands a bit behind her, waiting to be brought forward. Briefly, he glances from the corner of his eye to his wife of four years. Man, he thinks, she's absolutely beautiful as she listens intently to Tsunade's words, eyes shining brightly with so much pride and love that he wonders just what in the world did he do to deserve her.

His stomach knots with pure dread.

Sakura-chan.

His love, his dream, and the most important person in his life.

And yet.

_And yet. _

Involuntarily, his gaze flickers to the crowd. As fate would have it, he spots her immediately among the thousands of faces. Hinata. The compassionate, kind, and perpetually caring Hinata. Sunlight reflects off her skin as she watches the proceedings with a soft and gentle smile. As usual, she is simply happy that he is happy. That will always be enough for her.

Unable to help himself, his gaze drifts lower from her face.

From her face to her hands . . .

Her hands cradle her swelling belly, barely perceptible beneath her kimono.

Suddenly, his heart aches.

* * *

**Arrival**

* * *

Screams echo throughout the Hyuuga compound.

Hyuuga do not trust hospitals. Not since the fourth clan head, Hyuuga Houkan, nearly had his eyes stolen from him by a supposedly honorable and elite doctor nearly eighty-seven years ago. Houkan had obliterated the man's heart, but that day, they learned not to trust anyone but each other. Since then, it is the clan law that all the clan's children must be birthed within their family walls as to protect their precious lives from those who would seek to have their eyes.

Hinata obeys and gives birth at home, deep within the compound.

There is a flurry of Hyuuga women rushing to and fro with bowls of water and clean towels. The air is thick and heady with the smell of blood, and the sharp scent of medicinal herbs. Hinata is in the middle of it all, a writhing figure on a pallet of white sheets. She wears nothing but a pale yukata that has plastered to her skin, nearly translucent with her sweat.

"Here, Hinata-sama, drink this, it will ease the pain," says one of the nursemaids, suddenly pouring a vile of pink liquid into her mouth. Except, it doesn't ease the pain. Nothing will ease the pain. Hinata feels as though she is being torn apart, that everything around her is red and dire and red again.

Briefly, she wonders if she is to perish on the delivery bed as her mother had before her.

Needless to say, it is a difficult birth.

But only because Hinata is making it so.

"Please, Hinata-sama, push _now!"_ pleads the midwife, a matronly branch member who looks up from between Hinata's legs with a look of pure panic.

"I – I can't," Hinata says, and she thinks of giving an explanation but another scream rips from her throat. Her body hurts. _Hurts. _Lightning is zipping through her bones. Pain like this shouldn't exist. Can't exist. Heavens, she's dying.

But the baby . . .

The baby can't come yet!

Just a little bit longer.

She had to have faith.

Absolutely delirious, she barely notices as her sister appears beside her until she feels warmth on her cheeks. Hinata blearily opens her eyes and sees Hanabi smiling down at her, cradling her face. In the barely contained dismay of her sister's white gaze, Hinata can see herself as a sickly looking thing, with all the blood drained from her face and drenched in perspiration – more ghost than woman.

"Hinata, come on, what are you doing," whispers Hanabi gently, frantically, "come on."

Hinata tries to smile at her sister, to reassure her that she's okay, that everything will be all right, but mid-smile there is once again nothing but painpainpain_ithurtssomuch. _Spasms rack her body and the smile is long forgotten, now turned into a grimace.

"_Sister!" _cries Hanabi.

"You must push, Hinata-sama! Your body cannot take much more of this!" cries the midwife.

Taking a cue from the midwife, Hanabi snatches her sisters hand up and begins to whisper in her ear. "Stop waiting for him, Hinata! We sent for him hours ago! He's not coming!"

_No, _Hinata wants to say. _He needs to be here! _But all that is coming out are moans of pain.

"Do you want this baby to die!? Do you!? Because if you wait for that useless man any longer that is what is going to happen! Do not let that happen!" Hanabi yells, barely audible over the commotion of it all.

Everything quiets.

A revelation.

With all her might, Hinata pushes.

.

.

.

On the 21st of June, after seven hours of hard labor, Hinata's baby is born into the world just as the sun begins to rise. It is a little girl with red cheeks and a strong pair of lungs that she uses to cry, and heavens, _heavens, _she is the most beautiful thing that Hinata has ever seen. Tears come to her eyes, and soon she is sobbing over this squalling bundle of joy. The nursemaids pass congratulations around the room. Hanabi smoothes gentle circles over Hinata's back, while their father stands at the foot of the bed, looking unsure as to how to laud his eldest daughter on bringing a bastard child into the world.

Hinata doesn't mind. She's just glad that Hiashi is even here.

This is the greatest day of her life, Hinata thinks as she intimates herself with every facet of her precious daughter's face. She's so happy that she almost forgets that Naruto is nowhere to be found.

Almost.

* * *

**Punishment**

* * *

She is Hyuuga Himawari, which is very fitting considering that her hair is as gold yellow as the sunflowers that she is named after.

She is the reason why her mother can no longer be the future Ninth Head of the Hyuuga Clan.

She could also be the reason why her mother will lose much more than that.

"Hinata has dishonored the entire clan!"

"Brand her and that child with the seal!"

"We cannot allow her to have such freedom to shame the Hyuuga!"

Hyuuga clan meetings are usually quiet and dull affairs, but the topic of the former heiress and her bastard child seems to bring out the passions in the elders. Not particularly good passions either. There are sixteen of them sitting in a circle – twelve main branch councilmen, Hanabi, Hinata cradling Himawari in her arms, and a very disconcerted looking Hiashi at the head of it all.

The conference chamber was filled with the cacophony of yelling, bursts of outrage, and downright insults, all of which were directed towards Hinata. She in turn bears the punishment quietly, frowning down at her mewling baby whose loud blonde hair doesn't quite match with her muted pearl-white eyes.

She deserves this, Hinata thinks, not even bothering to stand up for herself.

She deserves every bit of this.

Hanabi, however, disagrees.

"_SHUT UP!" _Her sister yells, slamming her palm to the ground. The forcefulness of it subdues the entire council into a shocked silence. Hanabi continues even as their father sends her a disapproving glare. Her sister has never been so disobedient before.

Then again, Hinata defines the term disobedience by having an illegitimate baby with no husband in sight.

"How dare all of you!" Hanabi seethes, meeting the eyes of each and every single councilmen. "My sister, _your former heiress, _had the dignity to peacefully forfeit her title on her own volition, and yet you want _more? _Now you wish to place the seal on her and her daughter!?"

"I will have not stand for it! I will _not! _As future head of this clan, I demand that my sister be given amnesty-"

"Hanabi."

It is Hinata who interrupts this time, an even more shocking event than her sister's previous outburst, except she speaks as softly as silk. "Please . . . allow me."

They share a look. Reluctantly, Hanabi huffs and leans back just as Hinata bows forward.

"Honorable council," says Hinata, picking her words carefully, "forgive my trespasses, for I know they dishonor our family. My crime is of the highest multitude, and as such, I will gratefully accept the seal for I know that I deserve nothing worse than death."

There are no disagreements from the council. They agree that she deserves to die. Hinata cannot deny that it hurts, yet she continues.

"_However,_ I ask that my daughter and any other children I have after her remain free of the seal. She is guilty of nothing save being born to a weak and sullied mother."

Murmurs fill the room.

.

.

.

Within the week, the Hyuuga Juinjutsu is carved into her head.

Hinata bears the pain without as much as a wince.

Hanabi stands in the corner of the room, looking on completely incensed as she bounces her niece in her arms.

She understands her sister's anger, really she does, but Hanabi doesn't understand why Hinata must do this. Hanabi doesn't understand that Hinata really has sinned in more ways than one. If being marked means that her daughter will not have to be, then Hinata will receive the curse a thousand times over.

Being clan head, being a strong shinobi, being with the man she loves - all of it now pales compared to her daughter.

Nothing is more important than Himawari.

Nothing.

* * *

**Updated: 04/05/2014**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim any rights or responsibilities to the Naruto universe. All that belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.  
**Note: **I have received a few flames for this story. If it's not constructive, please refrain from posting it. So, let's begin . . .

* * *

**Wisteria**

* * *

As part of her punishment, Hinata is forbidden to leave the compound until the council deems otherwise. Honestly, she doesn't mind because she has been hiding away ever since before her second trimester. Beside the clan, no one has heard from her for close to seven months. Suspicions are avoided by the Hyuuga claiming that Hinata was sent to the Land of Rivers for a diplomatic mission and that would take a very long time to complete.

At first, several messenger hawks had arrived from Kiba and Shino, demanding to know where she was and why she would leave without telling them. The answer they received was always the same, non-descript message: _Hinata is in Kawa. Please desist._

Eventually, the hawks stopped coming.

The Hyuuga will lie and lie if it means that they can keep face.

In truth, she spends her days milling about the compound, doing odd tasks here and there – helping her elderly great Aunt Hiko with sewing, watching cousin Hamiya's cat while she is away, and so on and so on. When she is not doing that, Hinata tends to her mother's old garden, humming quietly to herself as she sows seeds of goji and gingko in the abandoned soil as Himawari slumbers away in a makeshift carrier tied to her back.

It is a quaint, content existence.

Hinata cannot ask for more.

Himawari grows each and every single day, and smiles more than she cries. She is truly the love of Hinata's life.

During the warm afternoons, Hinata sits beneath the wisteria tree that grows in the private courtyard of the clan head's home. The birth and pregnancy, and the aftermath of shifting hormones has made her lethargic, and she finds herself constantly sleepy. She lays in the grass, green and lush, Himawari on her chest, and listens to how their two heartbeats pulse together.

This is true, she simply thinks.

* * *

**Inconceivable**

* * *

Let it be known that Himawari is the apple of her grandfather's eye.

Hiashi holds his granddaughter to the sunlight, watching as her chubby face shifts from smiles to confusion as he makes a show of shutting his eyes and opening them again. Peek-a-boo the game is called, he used to play it with Hanabi and Hinata, and now he plays it with Himawari. However, he will never let another soul know that he even knows that such a game exists.

Let it also be known that Himawari is a fat baby.

Soon, Hiashi's arms begin to hurt from supporting her weight, and he tells her so as he is forced to lower her to eye level.

"You, little one, eat far too much."

Himawari giggles and giggles, her little feet wiggling, her white eyes glinting, and her gummy mouth in a huge smile.

One month old.

Himawari is one month old when she manages to accomplish the impossible and make the sternest man in Konoha, her grandfather, laugh.

Little does Hiashi know, Hinata stands in the doorway, arms folded as she watches the scene with a grin. It's at moments like these that the juinjutsu ceases to hurt. It's at moments like these she's eternally grateful to be alive.

* * *

**Genetics**

* * *

Despite the obviousness of it all, no one within the compound comments on Himawari's heritage. In fact, they are rather kindly to the girl, petting her blonde hair and playing with her until she tires out. They call her the _odd Hyuuga _with no real bite and pass her from relative to relative to be cooed at.

_How pretty, _they say.

_This one will be strong, _they say.

Hinata considers this a blessing. She knows how the clan can be, she knows that they can be cruel and ostracizing, but she is pleasantly surprised to learn that being illegitimate has no influence as to whether or not you're accepted. Only weakness is frowned upon.

And apparently, being the daughter of the hokage, no matter how her conception came to be, means that Himawari will one day be a powerful Hyuuga.

* * *

**Autumn Nights**

* * *

It may be presumptuous, but Hinata thinks that she is made for motherhood.

Himawari is now a month and half old and has begun to develop a rambunctious attitude that reminds Hinata so much of her daughter's father. The thought strikes her cold. He has yet to visit, yet to call. It is as if he has forgotten her, and though she hides it well, the knowledge that she has been abandoned breaks her heart every second of every day.

But.

_But. _

She had picked this path. She knew what she was doing on that autumn night when they first kissed, ignoring that he had already taken vows to another. It was a moment of weakness. She was being selfish, and he was being greedy. They both knew that nothing could come of it, because what would the world think of a hokage who would be willing to betray his wife? That a deceitful man would lead an equally deceitful country, that's what they would think.

Neither of them could bear to scar their home in that way.

It was a onetime mistake, he had said.

And she agreed.

Except the mistake kept happening over and over and over again.

Seasons passed. Their affair continued.

Until one night, Hinata realized that she had missed her monthly.

It was the end of it all.

The birth of their daughter was the final page to their relationship.

* * *

**Rain**

* * *

At least, she thought it was the final page of their relationship.

Rain falls on a humid August night.

Hinata wakes, half-knowing that somebody has their eyes on her. She doesn't react, every shinobi instinct in her body telling her to stay still. Slowly, imperceptibly, she reaches for the kunai resting beneath her pillow. Immediately, she feels for her daughter in the basinet beside her bed, and is relieved to find a small source of chakra. Steady, curling. Sleeping. Himawari. The only thing that she can think about is protecting her daughter -

"Hinata."

The voice, an awfully familiar voice, sounds like a gunshot in the quiet room.

For a moment, she simply blinks, wondering if this is a dream. Perhaps she had imagined his voice in her desperation to see him once more. Her hand inches away from the kunai.

"Hina-chan," he says again, this time his voice full of an emotion that sounds a bit like desperation. "It's me, Naruto."

Maybe it was because she was half-asleep, but Hinata activates her Byakugan.

It's undeniable.

His chakra bursts about his body, as bright as the sun, a signature unique only to him.

He's really here.

Still dazed, Hinata sits up in bed, and with her Byakugan is able to see that he stands behind her. He had come through the window, which is left wide open – a sloppy mistake for him. Something must be wrong. Outside, the rain continues to fall, and he must've been caught in it because he is absolutely drenched. Water falls from his clothes and drips to the floor.

_Drip. _

_Drip. _

_Drip. _

It is the only sound in the room, building the tension between the two of them.

His eyes glow eerily in the darkness. His face is blank, but she can see that his heart beating fast, and that his hands are shaking.

Something is definitely wrong.

Hesistantly, she looks over her shoulder while simultaneously deactivating her dojutsu.

Their eyes meet – white versus blue. They swallow her in, and she's drowning, drowning in her bitterness, drowning her love. She doesn't know how to feel right now. Everything is dark, and she can't think. Here is the one and only man that she has ever loved, and the surge of it warms her. Yet . . . yet he left her alone.

He left her alone in the darkest time of her life.

It is all very chaotic, and she knows that her emotions are clear as they flicker across her eyes.

But she doesn't have time to think as he suddenly emits a wave of anger so strong that it makes her falter. Hinata feels like shielding herself as his eyes bore into her, and she wonders what she has done wrong. And then she sees that his gaze is on her forehead - at the brand carved into her skin.

Ah, she thinks. Of course he wouldn't know what she's given up in order to save their daughter. Of course.

Quickly, she brushes her bangs back into place, hoping that it hides the seal, a bit embarrassed that he's seen her shame.

He seems to realize that he is glaring and quickly snaps back into the happy, light Naruto that she knows and loves. Well, not quite. She can still feel a sort of heaviness from him, one that is dark and sad.

Enough of this, Hinata thinks as she finally gets up from the bed and crosses the room. He holds his breath as she does this, except he's not quite prepared when she reaches out a hand and slaps him clear across the face. The sound of it rings true across the room, and a petty vindication settles in her. Yet in the second after she's embracing him, because even though he left her, even though he abandoned her, she still loves him.

_Loves him. _

Her arms wrap tighter around him.

He doesn't hold her back, and for a moment she thinks the worst. He stills, instead.

Just when she was sure that he was disgusted with her, he bows his head and pulls her close. Crushing her practically. He burrows his face into her hair, and his shoulders begin to shake. It takes her moment to realize that he is crying . . . no, sobbing.

"I'm sorry," he says in a voice so beaten that it makes her heart break. His hot tears slick down her neck and Hinata suddenly finds herself crying as well. He presses himself to her desperately, holding onto her as though she is the only thing in the world, all the while repeating, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

The rain continues to fall outside.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim any rights or responsibilities to the Naruto universe. All that belongs to Masashi Kishimoto._

* * *

**Red Thread**

* * *

_Warmth. _

_Rain water. _

_Tears. _

_Naruto. _

They stand in each other's silence for what seems like hours. Hinata revels in the moment, knowing that this may be the very last that she holds him in her arms. Tomorrow, he may forget her just yet. Tomorrow, she may be just another comrade rather than the mother to his only child.

Tomorrow, she may just very well hate him.

_Is it possible? _She asks herself, _to really hate him? _Hinata pulls back from the embrace, from the comfort, and tilts her head up to look into his eyes. They are blue, and bright, and sad. He smiles sheepishly at her and attempts to blink the tears away, giving her the upbeat smile that she fell in love with so many years ago – a show of confidence that he doesn't feel.

"Heh," he chuckles as he rubs the back of his head. "Sorry 'bout that."

Yet he still cries.

_Naruto. _Always trying to put a happy front, always trying to smile through the pain. She asks herself again, _Is it possible to really hate him? _

Hinata replies with her own smile, but it is weak and trembling.

The red thread that connects them is fraying.

Her hand rises and begins to smooth over his shoulder, over the cloak designed to look exactly like his late fathers', up his neck, before finally coming to rest upon his cheek. His skin, despite being chilled by the rain, is still hot to the touch. Hinata swipes her thumb beneath his eyes, clearing away both the rainwater and the tears.

He leans into her touch and lets his eyes drift close.

She can literally feel all the worries leaving him, little by little as she cradles his face, sipping away all his troubles. They feel like two halves come together, she the yin and he the yang. Serenity and chaos. Moon and sun.

Nothing will ever change this.

Not red thread, or wives, or clans, or duty, or honor.

Nothing.

* * *

**First Meetings**

* * *

The silence is broken by a quiet whimper and they both pull away from each other, startled out of their trance.

Another whimper, tiny and familiar.

"Is . . . Is that . . ." Naruto begins, looking past her to the bassinet on the other side of the room. All of sudden he seems anxious. Hinata would laugh at the look on his face had it been any other person, but instead she nods gently before taking his hand in hers and leading him towards their daughter.

_Their daughter. _

The thought makes her giddy.

He follows easily.

She lets go of his hand just before they reach her bed, and walks forward without him. He stays put, unable to tear his eyes off the simple white-wood bassinet. Hinata smiles at him from over her shoulder, the tears now drying. It is time to be happy, she thinks. It is a time for joy.

"There is someone who has been waiting to meet you," says Hinata, her first words to him in months.

He nods, looking absolutely stricken as Hinata reaches into the bassinet. Her daughter, despite all her fussing, is still sound asleep. Himawari rubs tiny mitten-covered hands over her chubby face in the way that babies do, but does not stir as Hinata gently lifts her from her bed.

"Naruto," says Hinata as she carries her daughter to the still stunned man, "this is Himawari. Himawari, this is your father."

Mewling, Himawari fidgets in her mother's arm. Hinata looks up and isn't surprised to see Naruto near in tears yet again. Deep inside, she knew that he would cry at first looking upon her daughter. He doesn't disappoint as he shuffles near and crouches down to investigate the baby's face. Naturally, he begins to poke at their daughter's face.

"She's chubby," he says lamely, all the while sniffling.

"Ano, Naruto-kun, should that really be the first thing you say about your daughter," she admonishes teasingly.

Naruto doesn't reply, and instead begins to smooth his fingers over Himawari's blonde hair. "That's not easily explainable," he jokes. "Guess my genetics are pretty strong, eh?"

Hinata finds herself giggling even though her daughter's hair is proof of betrayal.

"Take her," offers Hinata, pushing Himawari softly into Naruto arms. He has no choice but to take the swaddled bundle, and the way he holds her is awkward and fretful. "Here, like this," says Hinata as she carefully repositions Naruto's hands into a more comfortable manner for both baby and father.

"Like this?" He says, looking up at her with a look of sheer fear in his eyes. "I don't want to hurt her."

"Don't worry," says Hinata, patting his hand gently. "You will never hurt her."

Naruto nods, a bit unsure, before gazing down into Himawari's sleeping face.

"Thank you, Hinata," he says after a long moment, in pure awe of their daughter. "Thank you for something so beautiful. Thank you for making me the father of this baby. Thank you so much."

He may not love her, Hinata thinks, but at least he loves their daughter. She knows this by the starry look in his eyes as he carries Himawari about the room, talking to their daughter in hushed tones about how she will one day accomplish great things, how amazing she is, how she will be better than he will ever be, and that he will protect her from everything bad in the world.

* * *

**Father**

* * *

He loves her more than anything else in the world, he decides the second he sees her.

Himawari.

Uzumaki Himawari.

Namikaze Himawari.

Hyuuga Himawari.

It doesn't matter. Her name doesn't matter. The shock of blonde hair on her head, so out of place with her aristocratically pale skin, is proof enough as to who her father is. He is. He is the father, the _dad_, of this little beauty, and honestly, it scares the shit out of him a bit.

Well, more than a bit.

He knows that he should be ashamed of his daughter, ashamed that she was created out of wedlock, that she is the evidence that he is a horrible man, but now all he wants is to let her know how much he loves her.

Uzumaki-Namikaze-Hyuuga Himawari. Her name will shift a thousand times in his life, in her life, she may rise, or she may fall. She may become The Great or The Disgrace. He just doesn't know, and the future stretches out before him, dark and scary as he looks into the face of his child.

His beautiful, _beautiful _little girl.

Everything is uncertain.

Hinata.

Sakura.

Being Hokage.

He doesn't know where the world will lead him, but there is one thing he is sure of.

He has never loved anyone as much as Himawari.

* * *

**Deny**

* * *

Naruto rounds about the room until he is standing directly before Hinata. At first, she thinks he is going to tell her thank you again, but he suddenly leans down to kiss her, Himawari still in hand.

For some reason, Hinata turns her head at the last moment so that he catches her cheek instead. When she glances back at him, there is a shocked look on his face, but also understanding. This, whatever it was between them needed to end, Hinata decided the moment she gave birth to her daughter.

And as much as she loves him, she would no longer be leaving it up to him to decide her fate.

"I am sorry," says Hinata softly as he pulls away.

Unexpectedly, he smiles at her. "Don't be, Hinata-chan."

Outside the sky begins to lighten, and he stares out the window. "I should get going," he says reluctantly. "I gotta bunch of hokage stuff waiting for me. Now I know why Tsunade-baachan drank so much."

He gingerly gives Himawari to her, as though not wanting to let go, his eyes never leaving their daughter's face.

"Bye kid," he says with absolute reverence as he leans down and kisses Himawari on the forehead. "You'll see your old man later, promise." Even though the words are directed towards Himawari, he looks Hinata straight in the eyes. _Promise, _he had said.

He promises to be there.

Hinata's heart leaps.

However, soon enough he is at the window, ready to launch himself back into a life without a mistress and a bastard child. Despite his declaration, Hinata finds herself unsure.

She doesn't know when she'll see him again.

She doesn't know if this was a whim, or if he really means to be in their daughter's life.

He has hurt her so much in these past few months.

Anger wells in her once more, but she quells it.

And she asks herself again –

_Is it really possible to hate him? _

It is a question that hasn't left her alone for the entirety of the visit, and on the behalf of her daughter, she breaks the silence.

"Why did you come?"

Naruto leans out the window, his face catching the first rays of sunshine. It seems the rain clouds have finally begun to clear. He glances back at her and takes in her thin night-shift, her breasts that swell beneath the material. She feels his energy spike and become more . . . warm. Lust. Immediately, she crosses her free arm over her chest despite the fact that he has seen her in a more bare state many times before. Petulantly, she stares him straight in the eyes, demanding an answer.

"Ah, having my kid really made you bold, Hinata-chan," he jokes, rubbing at the back of his head.

Hinata doesn't think it's funny.

When she doesn't laugh, he becomes more somber.

"Sakura . . ." He begins, the words sounding hard for him to say. He won't meet her eyes. "Sakura had another miscarriage."

And like that he is gone.

Hinata stares at the space that he had been standing in for a few moments longer, hating herself as she did so. Hating herself for what she has done to her friend, Uzumaki Sakura.

This isn't right, she thinks.

This will never be right.

Her love comes with a hefty helping of guilt and self-loathing.

Her heart breaks for her friend, the friend that she and Naruto have betrayed time and time again.

She wants to cry, but then Himawari wakes and beats her to the punch. Her daughter's wails fill the room, and Hinata vaguely wonders as she comforts her baby if this is something that Sakura will ever be able to experience.

Will Sakura ever know the plush soft feeling of a baby in your arms? Of how their downy silk hair rubs gently against your cheek? Will she ever know that the strongest bond in the world will always be between mother and child, and what it is like to love a person so strongly that it makes you break?

Hinata doesn't know.

Only the heavens do.

She can only pray that despite her love for Naruto, that Sakura will one day know the joys of motherhood.

Hinata goes back to sleep in the dim early morning with a heavy heart, less for herself and more for the wife of her lover.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do hearby disclaim any rights and responsibilities to the Naruto Universe. All of that belongs to Masahi Kishimoto.  
**Note: **There are no villains in this story. Only humans.

**IMPORTANT: **The song in "Through the Window" is the translation of _Madokara Mieru _by Corner Stone Cues. Please listen to it (preferably while reading) so that you get the full effect of the story~ I promise you won't be disappointed with it.

* * *

**Foreshadow**

* * *

Uzumaki Sakura has night terrors – some bad, some horrible.

She dreams of the Fourth Great War. She dreams of the air being so thick with the copper scent of blood that it's suffocating. She dreams of how the red sky was, of the horde of scavenger birds circling over, of endless mounds of bodies. Bodies of people she couldn't save.

Could never save.

Useless.

_Useless. _

_**UselessUselessUseless. **_

A War-torn wasteland stretches out before her, reminding her of just how insignificant she is. Everything is red here. Everything is dead here. _Please, _she begs, but unsure for what. Salvation? Strength? She doesn't know, yet the need for something, for anything, pulses beneath her skin.

Bubbles of rage, hopelessness, and insanity all press against her rib cage until it's hard to breath. And soon enough she is suffocating.

_Get up. _

_Help them. _

But she can't. She never could.

Abruptly, the battlefield disappear beneath a flood of bright light.

.

.

"Wakey, wakey, forehead! Rise and shine ~"

Vaguely, Sakura registers that someone is pulling all the curtains open.

"_No!" _She groans, burying her head beneath her pillow. Soon enough, that too is pulled away, and Sakura groggily opens her eyes and comes face to face with her best friend (who simultaneously manages to be the biggest pain in her ass).

"Wow, you look like shit," Ino says with a low whistle. She is leaning over the bed, smiling at Sakura as though she hasn't done a damn thing wrong. It takes everything in her power not to punch Ino in her perfect little face. "Time to face the day, _Lady _Hokage."

Lady Hokage.

Sakura hates the title. It's a bit too pompous for her liking.

"Speaking of Hokages," Ino continues, giving Sakura a bit of space to rise from the bed like a vengeful spirit, "where's that dumbass husband of yours?"

"Don't call him that," grumbles Sakura, but nonetheless glances to his side of the bed. It is empty, and the sheets are still perfectly made. She frowns. Lately, she's been going to bed before he returns from the office, but this is the first time he hasn't been here to greet her in the morning.

Weird.

Sakura doesn't have time to contemplate it further when Ino smacks her upside the head with a pillow.

"I _said _get up, dammit!"

"Ugh, Ino! I'm going to kill you, you dumb pig!"

She's halfway down the stairs, chasing a cackling Ino, by the time she forgets to worry about her husband never coming home last night.

* * *

**Body Issues  
**

* * *

"Well, aren't you hungry," chides Hinata softly as her daughter suckles enthusiastically at her breast.

A content silence settles over her bedroom, occasionally punctuated by the sounds of Himawari nursing. Sunlight filters through the curtains, and warm, fresh breezes waft through the open windows. Today was meant to be a particularly lazy one. Hinata takes advantage of this rare break and spends the morning in bed with a novel in one hand and Himawari in the other.

All she wears is a loosely tied white robe, because even the former Hyuuga Heiress cannot bothered to put on real clothes sometimes. However, she finds herself regretting the decision each time she glances down at her body. Her exposed breasts are veiny and full, now so heavy with milk that it hurts her back at times. Naturally, Hinata has avoided looking in the mirror as of late.

It can't be that bad, she thinks, unable to take her eyes of the expanse of pale skin that peeks beneath the fold of her robe.

With a sigh, she sets down her novel and fully parts the robe.

It isn't a pretty sight.

Hinata has never been the thinnest girl. Genetics had ensured that she was a a bit more endowed than the rest of her peers with wide hips and well-developed breasts - traits that she had tried very hard to hide. The attention used to make her so uncomfortable that she would wrap her chest so tightly that she couldn't breathe. Now, though, pregnancy has made her breasts swell to the point that they seem to rival Tsunade-sama's in size.

She's unsure as to how to feel about it all.

"Jaa . . . Himawari . . look at the stretch marks you gave mama," says Hinata finally, tracing the lines that run down the sides of her no longer flat belly.

Himawari detaches from the teat long enough to giggle.

The tinkling laugh is enough to erase all the doubt from her mind.

"I suppose it is rather funny," replies Hinata with her own laugh, tapping her daughter's button of a nose. "I guess it is a small price to pay, ne?"

Hinata feels strangely proud of the newest additions to her body. To her, it means that she bore the hardest pain to bring the sweetest gift.

* * *

**Through the Window**

* * *

Nearly eleven years have passed since he left her world, but not a day goes by that she doesn't think of him. Her guardian, once her greatest enemy, and later her greatest friend.

The sun sets as Hinata meanders down a dirt path, past juniper trees, past Branch Hyuuga women taking advantage of the last hour of light by airing their laundry out in their yards. Hinata says nothing, but of course she smiles politely, bows, and a variety of other niceties. The women let her pass without much fuss, but only because they know that her head is somewhere else completely.

Today is the anniversary of the end of the Fourth Great War.

Hinata celebrates it by going to the Hyuuga cemetery, a bouquet of pale plum blossoms in hand.

By tradition, Hyuuga headstones are plain and white, decorated only with the engraving of the deceased's name. There is no distinction between Main and Branch here simply because they are all equal in death. Thin marble markers flank her at all sides, and for a moment she feels lost.

It is not secret that out of all the Hyuuga, it was the former heiress who witnessed the greatest tragedies.

Sometimes it is hard to forget.

Sometimes she still wakes up in the middle of night, gasping, crying, and imagining that his blood is still warm against her face.

Dead.

Death.

Death all around her.

Suddenly, she's back on the battlefield.

Suddenly, he's staring in her eyes as the life leaves his own.

Flashes.

The world is falling away from her.

It is all snapshots that she will never be able to make sense of, that she doesn't _want _to make sense of. Pain. Blood. Desperation. It all crowds in, red and dire and red once again.

A crow's cry pierces the air and Hinata is dragged back to reality.

She blinks once, twice, standing before the very grave she was searching for. Without meaning to, she has found herself directly before his tomb, her feet having moved on their own while she was entrenched within her memories.

_Hyuuga Neji, _it says simply in carved characters.

Seeing his name is all it takes to dispel the knot of anxiety from her.

Bright green grass springs up all around it the marker and Hinata briefly wonders if Neji would've liked being buried. Perhaps, she thinks, he would've rather be cremated, rather have his ashes blown to the wind, rather that he be free to the world than bound to a box.

Perhaps.

"Hello, Neji-niisan," Hinata bows. "It's been a long time."

She settles down before the stone, quiet and waiting, and hopes to feel something. Feel anything. Sitting like this helps her pretend that she's kneeling before Neji, and that it's like old times again. It's like they're sitting down for tea, and she is pouring him a drink, and he's trying hard not to smile over something silly she's said.

When she thinks of times like those -

_"Nii-san, please stop laughing! It's embarrassing!"_

_"Ja, I will stop laughing when you stop being embarrassing, Hinata-sama."_

- it's almost easy to forget that he's dead.

Hinata pushes it all away, the sadness, the anger, the hurt, everything. Instead, she begins to carefully arrange the flowers before his grave. It's the very least she can do, she thinks, as she sings his favorite song – a lullaby passed down from his mother – quietly.

"Through the window I see  
on the plum tree  
one blossom, one blossom worth  
of warmth."

Neji, always stern and quiet, had surprisingly been a good singer. They had been three and four when he taught her the song, childishly playing beside the koi pond. His mother, a branch seamstress had taught him the words, and it was the only thing she left him before she passed. A song. A simple song that Hinata would always find him singing beneath his breath when he thought nobody was listening.

"Through the window I see  
a view of greenery  
a wild cuckoo  
the first bonito."

Just like the song was the only thing his mother had left him, it was the only thing he had left Hinata. A secret that only the two of them knew.

His song.

His need to look out into the world through the window.

His need to be free.

Pearls of their memories, strung together until it was something beautiful, unbreakable.

"Through the window I see  
the autumn wind  
resounds in the mountain—  
temple bell."

Hinata sung his song to Himawari each night, hoping each lyric would imbue a piece of Neji's spirit into her daughter.

"how much longer  
is my life?  
A brief night."

She remembered their last conversation:

_They watched the stars. _

"_Hinata-sama, one day I will die. Perhaps soon." _

"_I may as well, Neji-niisan. I may as well," she replied, looking into his eyes. They were deep in the trenches, leaning against the high walls of dirt that kept them somewhat safe from the hell that Madara's army rained down upon their troops. It was quiet, eerily so, yet the fighting hadn't ceased. Would it ever cease? Cries sounded in the far off distance, reminding them of their mortality. _

_The first night of the war was the hardest. _

"_No, you won't," he said adamantly, as though his words would make it so. _

_Hinata only smiled tiredly at him. "I may." _

_His bright eyes glinted in the moonlight. _

_He smiled back, a rare smile that he only afforded to her. "Not while I am alive, Hinata-sama." _

And the next day he was dead, staring her in the eyes, keeping true to his vow.

_Not while I am alive. _

"Through the window I see  
all I can think of  
is being sick in bed  
and snowbound."

_Is he free now? _She thinks, praying and wishing that he is.

"Through the window I see  
this lone iris  
white  
in spring twilight."

She finishes the song, her voice warbling slightly. Hinata swallows her tears knowing that Neji would've not liked her crying at his grave.

Hinata finally finishes placing the blossoms upon his grave, having taken her sweet time. The sun sets behind her, coloring the white graves in shades of orange and pink.

"I wish you were here," says Hinata quietly as she wraps her arms around herself.

Of course there is no reply. All she hears is the wind rustling the trees and the birds chirping. She glances at the grave once more with longing. Then, without further ado, she turns and leaves, wanting to get back to Himawari as quickly as possible so as to alleviate some of the heaviness in her heart.

What she doesn't hear, however, is the whisper upon the air, light and feathery at her back. What she doesn't hear is the promise that echoes from the spirit world into the physical realm:

_I will always be here, Hinata-sama._


End file.
